The Doctor and co make dinner
by Person-without-a-FF.N-account
Summary: The Doctor, Rose, Martha, Donna, Jack and the Master all cook supper. Together. In the same kitchen. What fun!


A/N: Hiya everyone! YES I KNOW, I'M SORRY, I SHOULD BE UPDATING 'IF THINGS WERE DIFFERENT'... sorry ;( I shall update it! At some point _

This is a little something I wrote a while ago, rather akin to 'Dr. Jones and her psychopath' in that it's all of the Doctor's various companions travelling together in the TARDIS, (Minus 11, Amy, Rory and Sarah-Jane)... hope you enjoy it :)

Disclaimer: Doctor Who is copyrighted to the BBC, not to me. I don't own it ;_;

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The TARDIS usually provided food for all its passengers, ready-made and cooked to perfection.

Unfortunately, the ship had taken some damage during one of their recent adventures, and the food-replicating kitchen machines had broken down.

So, the crew decided they would try cooking a meal between them.

"Right then!" the Doctor cried, grinning so broadly it looked as though his face was about to explode, "Cooking! Cooking! Cooking. Cooooooooooooking. Right. Off we go! Err..." he scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully, not knowing quite where to begin.

There was a long, awkward silence, filled only by the dripping of a leaky tap over the kitchen sink. _Must get that fixed, _thought a part of the Doctor's busy brain.

The silence proceeded for a minute or so, until Jack suddenly said, "I want to make a sauce."

Everyone looked at him, and the time agent turned a little pink.

"It's the only thing I know how to cook." he confessed.

"Alright then, Jack's doing a sauce." the Doctor announced. "Anyone else have any specific requests?"

Nobody did, so the Doctor began leafing through the large, dusty cookbook he'd brought down from the library. Unfortunately, the library's main entrance had been blocked up that day, and to get to the other door, one had to wade through a section of the swimming pool. Several of the book's pages were soggy and damp due to this impractical layout.

This didn't appear to suppress the Doctor's enthusiasm however, and he simply flicked past the wet pages, grin never fading.

Finally, he stopped at a recipe which he seemed to find interesting, and laid the book down on the table.

"Here we go! Spaghetti Bolokaze!"

"Bolo-what?" Donna frowned.

"It's Spaghetti Bolognese from the 72nd century!" the Doctor explained, "They changed it so much they gave it a new name!"

"In what ways did they... err, change it?" Rose asked. She recalled the Doctor mentioning to her once that 70th century food was disgusting, and she wondered if they'd improved it two centuries on.

"Well, they..." he suddenly looked rather guilty. "Since beef was a very rare meat in those times, they used, er..." he said something very fast that sounded like - 'Mosapyenflesmatta'.

"What was that?" Martha enquired, dreading the answer.

"Homo Sapien flesh matter." the Master translated, "They used humans."

"WHAT?!" Donna bellowed, "I'M NOT A BLOODY CANNIBAL! IT'S ALRIGHT FOR YOU SPACEMEN, I'M SURE YOU EAT HUMANS THREE TIMES A BLOODY WEEK! BUT IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO EAT -"

"HOWEVER," the Doctor said very loudly and pointedly, cutting Donna off, "I'm sure we can find an alternative meat for our purposes."

The Master looked crestfallen, as though he had been looking forward to eating human flesh for supper.

"Now then," the Doctor continued, "Since there are so many of us, I thought we might have a few other things as well; vegetables, salads and stuff. Jack, you get cracking on that sauce! Workstation three, off you go!"

Jack nodded and went off to one of the workstations, lifting down a saucepan from a shelf on the way and swinging it around dangerously, nearly hitting the Master's head.

"Oi, watch it!" the Master glared at him in an almost perfect imitation of Donna.

"Oh sorry," Jack said, not sounding sorry at all, "I didn't see you there."

"Annnyyywayy..." the Doctor said, steering the Master over to the fridge before an argument could break out, "Can you get all the green cases of cheese out, please?"

As the Master grudgingly started picking out cheese packets and looking at them, the Doctor set Rose up chopping carrots. She was the one he trusted most with a sharp knife when everyone was around. Martha and Jack might try and kill the Master, Donna was often in a temper, and therefore dangerous while in possession of any kind of weapon, and the Master... well, he was just the Master.

"Right then! Martha, you peel those potatoes. Donna, I need help with this - oof! - great big hefty thing!"

With Donna's help, the Doctor managed to extract a large cooking pot from a lower cupboard. It was massive, like a cauldron, and very heavy.

"Blimey, spaceman! What's this for?" Donna panted, heaving the great pot up onto the stove.

"The spaghetti!" he grinned, "I've always wanted to use it. Given to me by king Henry the eighth. He really was quite a good fellow, despite what people say about him. Well, he was to me, anyway. Although that might have been because I got rid of an alien who was lurking in his wardrobe."

The Doctor rambled on as they filled up the pot with spaghetti. Somewhere along the way (nobody was quite sure when, or for that matter, how), he'd gone from talking about his dealings with King Henry the eighth to explaining how it is possible eat a giant, purple banana in three seconds flat.

They all continued slicing, dressing and preparing the food for a while. It was hot, exhausting work in the kitchen and everyone got rather tired and stuffy.

"Anything I can do?" the Master asked innocently, watching the Doctor peel onions.

"No no, we're fine." the Doctor said quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Oh Doctor, don't cry! It's not _that _tragic, is it?" the Master mocked concern, putting his arm around the Doctor's shoulders.

The Doctor shot him an exasperated look, but said nothing.

"At least let me make a pot of _tea_!" the Master said.

"You're beeing disturbingly helpful." frowned the Doctor.

"I'm bored, and nobody will let me do anything more interesting than stirring the spaghetti."

"Well, umm, I can't think why..." the Doctor said, knowing perfectly well why - they had agreed before they started cooking that they wouldn't permit the Master near anything that could be considered even mildly dangerous. "But you can make tea if you like."

While the Master was impatiently waiting for the kettle to boil, Jack was looking at the ingredient list for the Bolokaze sauce.

"Doctor," he frowned, "It says to add three cups of T'kozumi. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that's not found on Earth."

"Ah. Right, yes." the Doctor paused in his onion chopping and went over to Jack's workstation.

"Commonly found on the planet Eevrek, I believe. Grown in huge biodomes with specially regulated musical emanati-"

"Well that's very nice," Jack interrupted, "But have we got any on board?"

"Ehh, noo..." the Doctor drew a pair of spectacles out of his pocket, slipped them on and started inspecting the recipe. "Ah, here we go. T'kozumi is... blah blah blah, can be replaced by BLUEBERRIES! Okay, I'll go and find some." he made for the door, but as he was leaving, he turned back. "Oh, and Jack?"

Jack raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"The sauce is burning." and with another manic grin, the Doctor went.

Over Jack's colourful oaths as he attempted to put the sauce to rights, Donna was arguing with Rose about whether to roast or mash the potatoes.

"Roast ones are much nicer!" Rose was saying, "And if you're going to try venting your anger by mashing potatos, it won't work."

Donna glowered at her. "I'll bloody well vent my anger by mashing _you _in a minute! Besides, roast potatos are-" she made a retching sound that indicated she didn't think much of roast potatos.

"Why don't you just have both?" Martha asked, looking up from courgette-chopping.

At that moment, the Doctor burst back through the door, a punnet of blueberries under each arm, and panting.

"Why...so...far... TARDIS...garden... URK!" he gasped, handing the baskets to Jack and collapsing in a chair. He'd clearly run the whole way to, and from, the garden.

Jack smirked and started weighing the berries on a set of scales.

After five minutes or so of rest, the Doctor was back to his energetic self and was soon flitting around the kitchen, looking over people's shoulders, stirring the spaghetti whenever he passed it, giving advice and generally being very supportive.

Jack had almost finished the sauce, Rose and Donna had agreed to do boiled potatos as a compromise, and Martha was getting to work on the salad. The Master, meanwhile, had grown so bored with waiting for the kettle that he blasted it with his laser screwdriver in an attempt to make it boil quicker. This method apparently worked, for the kettle proceeded to whistle merrily, piercingly and loudly, until Donna slapped the Master so hard that he agreed to turn it off and get on with the tea.

"The spaghetti's nearly done!" the Doctor announced happily, giving it another stir, "Just in time, too - I'm starving!"

"Shall I put cucumber in the salad?" Martha asked.

"Well, that depends on whether you want to live or not." the Master said, dropping several tea bags into the large teapot, "I'm afraid there has been a large infestation of Adleks in the cucumber patch in the garden."

"What are Adleks?" Martha frowned.

"They're like Daleks, but they live in your garden and infest your cucumbers. And if you eat said cucumbers then you will turn into a Dalek." the Master explained.

Martha gave him a very concerned glance and turned to the Doctor.

"True or false, Doctor?"

The Doctor shrugged, as though he couldn't care less if he ate Adlek-infested cucumbers. Martha took this as a 'false' and shook her head resignedly, going back to the salad.

"Why are you even making tea?" Jack asked, watching the Master pour the contents of the teapot into six mugs, "I mean, it's nearly supper time, we won't have time to drink it."

"I assure you," the Master said, "That I have no intention of allowing you to _drink _yours."

Before Jack could process this, he was splashed in the face by a mugful of scalding hot tea.

Spluttering and cursing, he reached around for the towel, but instead his hand fell upon the Doctor's hair.

"OUCH!" The Doctor yelled, swinging around to get Jack off his hair, but instead hitting the Master, who was just about to take a tray of mugs over to the table. Hot tea spilled everywhere - all over the floor, all over the Doctor, all over the Master. Jack had somehow managed to escape being splashed, but seeing as his face was already dripping with tea, it didn't make much difference.

"Bloody hell!" Donna proclaimed, rushing over with a mop and trying to clean the floor up.

"Oh yes, poor floor." the Doctor said sarcastically, pulling off his sopping wet suit jacket, "Don't worry about _me_, Donna, I'm fine."

"Now look what you've gone and done!" the Master was saying to Jack, and -

"What _I've _done?!" Jack sounded outraged, "It was _you _who splashed hot tea in _my _face!"

"Everyone calm down!" Rose instructed, passing Jack a towel and pulling the Doctor and the Master away so that Donna could get on with the mopping.

During all the kerfuffle, Martha had been calmly sitting at the kitchen table, drinking from the only mug of tea that had escaped spilling. Now she drained the last of it and went over to help Rose, who was picking up bits of broken china from the floor.

After the commotion had died down a little, they grumpily got back to the meal preparations. Martha and the Doctor set the table, while Rose caught Jack attempting to install a booby trap on the Master's chair as revenge. Donna yelled at everyone to sit down and then began serving.

"This is delicious!" Rose said, rolling another forkful of Spaghetti Bolokaze into her mouth, "Much nicer than the 21st century version!"

"Yes, but I'm glad we didn't use the original recipe." Martha said, shuddering at the idea of human flesh for supper.

"Well," said the Doctor, "I'd consider this meal a great success! We should do this more often!" he grinned, and held up his glass in a toast.

"What are we toasting?" Jack laughed, clinking his glass along with the others.

"Erm, good point." the Doctor thought for a minute, then declared, "I propose a toast in honour of good teamwork and a delicious meal!"

"_I_ propose a memorial service for the spilt tea." the Master said, glaring at Jack as though it was all _his _fault.

"Why are you so attatched to that bloody tea?" Donna said exasperatedly.

"It would have been very nice to drink if _someone _hadn't blundered about grabbing people's hair and indirectly knocking the tray over!" the Master continued glaring at Jack.

Jack snorted. "And the reason I did that was because _you _threw tea at me! _Why_ did you do that?"

"Because you exist. That's a good enough reason." the Master retorted.

"Boys! Boys! No fighting at the table!" Rose said, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Quite right!" the Doctor grinned, "I suggest we all shut up and start eating!"

And so they did. All in all, it was quite an agreeable evening.


End file.
